The Madness of Crowds (Chief Inspector Armand Gamache, #17)

by Louise Penny

The madness of crowds was a terrible thing to see.

“There are,” said the Chief, unbothered and undeterred by what he’d just heard, “four sentences that lead to wisdom. Do with them as you will.”

“‘I’m sorry.’ ‘I was wrong.’ ‘I don’t know.’” As he listed them, Chief Inspector Gamache raised a finger, until his palm was open. “‘I need help.’”

Armand knew the terror of that first step. He also knew that the key to a full life was taking it. The trick wasn’t necessarily having less fear, it was finding more courage.

“The thing about murder investigations is that the crime often begins long before the act. The killer starts down that path sometimes years earlier. Sometimes without even knowing it themselves.”

If Ruth had tried to make her home uninviting, she could not have done a better job. And there was a fairly good chance she did try.

And then shall forgiven and forgiving meet again, or will it be, as always was, too late?

But what happened when the suffering continued? Or when there were no plugs to pull? Just a loved one wracked with uncontrollable pain and begging for help.

One of Gilbert’s favorite quotes was from Henry David Thoreau. The question is not what you look at, but what you see.

When you see so much death, you come to value life. When you see so much cruelty, you come to value kindness.”